


Rusty Bits - The party

by Friendly_Tree



Series: Rusty Bits [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Birthday Parties, Crack, Everybody Lives, Fluff, M/M, Pride, Tim and Sasha are definitely close, ace pride!jon, during the show's timeframe anyway. Gerry and Gertrude are still gone. Sorry, implied hamid/wilde, not even borderline anymore, you could read a /
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friendly_Tree/pseuds/Friendly_Tree
Summary: Follow-ups to the stories in The night before the party. No canon, no beta, just Cel in comfy jumpers.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Rusty Bits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930099
Kudos: 6





	Rusty Bits - The party

The darkness helped Cel to think. Well, sort of. They had a lot more thoughts in the dark but it was much harder to keep them on topic. It alway tickled them how a little bit of distraction could stop them distracting themselves to a far greater extent. Could Cel build something to simulate the benefits of small talk when alone in their workshop? Some of Mister Edison’s writings in Popular Mechanics certainly bore further investigation on this front. Maybe Zolf would like to perform some passages from those books of his as a sample text for this project.  
“You can open your eyes now, Cel.”  
“Oh thank you Mister Smith.”  
Cel opened their eyes into a solid wall of  
“Surprise!!”  
The basement was transformed to a shocking extent given the lack of available resources. Cel had begun to severely reconsider their assessment of Hamid’s conjuration abilities when they saw the small pile of parcels immaculately wrapped in marbled paper placed by the ladder that suggested Mister Wilde had somehow been roped in to help with party supplies.  
Cel jumped to their feet and right into range of the aroma emanating from the open bottle being proffered by Commander Barnes, which almost knocked them right back down again.  
“Oh thank you, it smells very… fun.”  
“You’re very welcome, but it’s Howard you should be thanking, he’s agreed to share what he insists is all of his private stash, given the occasion.”  
“Oh well that’s just lovely of you Mister Carter, you have my thanks of course!”  
Half an hour later Cel sat cross legged on the cold stone floor, bouncing gently up and down with glee, wearing a yellow and red jumper that Hamid had somewhat apologetically explained he had needed magic to finish in one night. Cel thought it was just perfect. Zolf was next to hand over his present.  
“Happy birthday Cel. Um, full disclosure, I was already making this before we knew this was comin up, but I do want you to have it.” He mumbled, proffering a clear glass bottle containing an intricate model of the three-masted ship in the european style.  
“Oh Mister Smith! It’s beautiful, thank you! How did you get it in, no wait, don’t tell me. I want to figure it out for myself. Cel noticed the pink glow reflected in the bottle from the centre of the room intensify and turned to see Azu beaming at their and Zolf’s interaction, while standing next to her armour which had been hung from the ceiling to add a ‘party atmosphere’ to the room’s lighting, according to Carter at least. Azu walked over and held out a closed hand.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t make anything but this has helped protect me since I left Kenya and now I want you to have it.” Azu opened her hand to reveal a simple cord necklace with a carved wooden image of a bird. “It’s a dove.” She explained.  
“Azu I adore it! It means so much to me that you’d part with something that’s kept you safe!” Cel put the necklace around their neck, and threw their arms around their friend.

* * *

Fresh off of waltzing up a storm on the dance floor, Hamid and Sasha stopped at the small refreshments table up against one wall and a peal of thunder sounded from behind them.  
"Tahan, is that you?" bellowed the blond man now striding towards them. He looked almost as tall as Azu, but Azu never seemed to fill up the room like this. Sasha always felt like she had the space she needed to be safe around Azu.  
"Sir Bertrand, is that you?" Hamid was his usual suave self, but somehow seemed much smaller than usual.  
“Well who else would be here looking this splendid?”  
“Um, Sasha, this is Sir Bertrand Macguffingham. We went to university together.” Said Hamid, more out of how little else Sir Bertrand left him to say than any actual desire to subject Sasha to the man.  
“Good evening young lady. I must congratulate you. It’s not often people of your sort ascend to events like this.” Said Sir Bertrand, entirely cutting off Sasha’s heartfelt silence and displaying an ability to pick out the poor person in the crown that, if inverted, would be the envy of any pickpocket. “Has Tahan here told you what he used to get up to in our Oxford days? I remember once he was polishing my shoes when I…”  
It was at this point that the most elegantly dressed telegraph pole Sasha had ever seen swept into their little huddle.  
“Oh hello there, Mr. Macguffingham, was it? Yes I’ve been told so much about you.” Said the long haired man, who was almost as tall as the target of his interest and almost certainly knew the correct form of address. He took Sir Bertrand by the arm and back into the crowd at large, tossing Hamid an unsubtle wink and an artless wave of the hand that somehow flung a business card perfectly into Hamid’s top pocket. Sasha let out a breath.  
“Well Hamid, looks like you’ve got a new friend there.” She said, snatching the card “Oscar Wilde, a journalist.” She read, before putting the card back upon noticing that the address of his magazine’s office had been crossed out and replaced with a handwritten one in a far more residential area.

* * *

John focused on his nails to insulate himself from the crowd. Alternating purple and black, slightly messy in a couple of places, but he wasn't particularly expecting for anyone to be looking all that closely and it was nice to 'fly the colours' as some old friends might have said.  
"There he is! This way!" That was Sasha's voice. John looked up, but it was Tim standing in front of him. He looked up further and clocked Sasha perched atop Tim's shoulders. "Wanted to get a better vantage point to spot you, boss."  
"Ah yes. I can see the sense in that. Still, are you sure you're steady up there?"  
"I'm offended you'd ever doubt me. Ask anyone, 'Tim Stoker?' they'll say, 'steady as a rock.'" Tim piped in, not entirely hiding the strain in his voice.

* * *

“The Great Archivistio has arrived with her glamorous assistant Timotron Nine-thousand!” Proclaimed the booming voice from beyond the door  
“They could have knocked.” Muttered Martin as the gaggle of children surrounding the plastic elephant in the middle of the room looked up at the prospect of new entertainment. He went over to the front door, meeting his husband coming out of the kitchen and one kiss on the cheek later they were letting their guests in.  
“I let Tim pick the names.” Sasha explained apologetically.  
“Don’t knock them, they’re great names! Exciting! Dynamic! Implying a backstory while still leaving room for curiosity. Hi John, how’s things? Still all seeing?” Tim piped up, leaning slightly to one side with the weight of the duffle bag in his hand.  
“I’m well Tim. You can bring the egg, candle and bottle in, but please leave the fizzy drinks and mints in the garden.” Deadpanned John while one of Gerry’s classmates began tugging on Sasha’s sleeve in hope of a headstart on the magic show. “Oh, David, give… Archivistio a bit of space while she’s getting set up, would you.” Martin gently ushered David back over to the ongoing game, leaving John to continue welcoming the new guests. “Archivistio, Timotron”  
“Nine-thousand.”  
“Nine-thousand. Lovely to see you again, please come in.” Tim gingerly stepped over the line of Discworld books and Doctor Who DVDs in the doorway and cast a questioning glance at the photographs and memoirs on the windowsills of the room. “Things that helped shape and solidify our worldviews.” John explained, slightly sheepishly, “Keeping them around the threshold helps to suppress The Distortion’s appetite.”  
“The Distortion? I thought that bouncy castle looked familiar.” A slip of paper flew out of the elephant’s trunk, right into Sasha’s hand, she unfolded it and read.  
Observant as always Sasha, rest assured, if it hadn’t been for my nefarious schemes the job would have been yours.


End file.
